


oasis

by withoutwords



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Angst, Disability, Getting Together, Infidelity, M/M, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 00:23:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19366573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withoutwords/pseuds/withoutwords
Summary: “So, is this a date?” Ben asks him, pulling a face on the last word like he knows how much it will bother Callum. It’s just the two of them, in Callum’s flat, and one of the stupidest things he’s probably ever done.“I just asked you round for a drink,” Callum says, holding a bottle of bourbon and two glasses as he joins Ben on the sofa. “That’s all.”





	oasis

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short little scene I had rolling around in my head. Hope you enjoy!

When Callum was five he found a stray cat in the alley by his house. He hid it in his room, gave it a name and a bowl of milk to drink from, and managed to keep it for three weeks without anyone finding out. It had been Stuart who grassed - screeching at their dad about some mangy thing in Callum’s bed - and the old man had given Callum a slap before throwing the cat out by its tail.

Callum never saw it again.

When he was thirteen, he had a best mate called Phillip. He was a rich kid from the nice part of town, with weedy little arms and an inhaler for when the weather got warm. Phillip never gave Callum a hard time about his clothes, or his brother, or his ears (they hadn’t really grown into his head yet); and Callum never said a bad word about him, either.

They were good. As long as they had each other.

Callum’s 26 now, and he’s starting to see the pattern. Stray cats, and nerdy kids, and little old ladies breaking down in the middle of town because the love of their life has died. Maybe the Army was never something he chose. Maybe he was just pre-programmed to protect.

“So, is this a  _ date _ ?” Ben asks him, pulling a face on the last word like he knows how much it will bother Callum. It’s just the two of them, in Callum’s flat, and one of the stupidest things he’s probably ever done.

“I just asked you round for a drink,” Callum says, holding a bottle of bourbon and two glasses as he joins Ben on the sofa. “That’s all.”

“Oh, yeah? And where’s the lovely Whitney?”

“She had to go into town for work. Someone might be stocking her clothes in their shop.”

“Good for her.”

Callum gives him a tight nod, and passes Ben a drink. He takes it, and takes a sip, and shoots Callum one of those heady looks that Callum just can’t escape from. Across rooms, in the square, at a table with Callum’s fiance right there.

Ben wants him. He’s not hiding it.

“If this is about your dad…” Ben starts, swirling his glass. 

“It ain’t. I mean, I am sorry about all that - ”

“It ain't your fault.”

Callum scoffs, taking a gulp of his drink. “I’m the one who invited him here. I knew it was dumb. I know what he’s like.”

“You just thought it could be different,” Ben says, reading his mind again like he always does. “I’ve been there.”

“He’s just,” Callum starts to say, but can’t find the words. He polishes off the rest of his glass and starts to pour another one. “I figured he’d be happy for me, y’know? A flat, a girl, a future. But he’s not happy. He’s never fucking happy.”

Ben pushes in closer, bringing a hand to the back of Callum’s neck and sending little shivers down his spine. “That’s when you gotta realise that nothing you do is ever good enough. So why bother?”

“How’s that working for you?” Callum asks, maybe a little too bitter. Lucky for him, Ben just laughs.

“We wasn’t talking about me. Were we?”

Callum smiles, leaning into the feel of Ben’s thumb gently gliding through his hair. “I mean, we  _ can _ .”

“No, no. I’m good.”

Callum takes another gulp of his drink. He’d stared at his empty flat this morning - just the sound of a dripping tap and some awful song on the radio - and he couldn’t face being alone in it. He couldn’t face being alone with his thoughts. About his dad, and Whit. About Ben.

“You can go easy, you know,” Ben says, watching Callum finish off his second glass. “I’m not forcing you into bed if you don’t want it.”

Callum tenses, hearing the words out loud. It’s how it happened last time, a little booze and courage - obviously Ben thinks he’s got him figured out. “That aint what I’m doing.”

“No? So what’re you doing then?”

“I don’t know,” Callum admits with a sigh, falling back into the sofa. Ben’s hand stays where it is, but he sits up a little more, tucking himself closer into Callum’s side. He’s so warm. “You asked me… you know. About my place. Where I belong. And … it messed me up a bit.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No… just. I found the Carters, and Whit, and I thought I had it all. I mean … I quit the army for this. I changed everything for this.”

“You quit? I heard you didn’t pass the medical.”

Callum laughs, and it’s the unfunniest thing he’s ever heard. When he tries to take another drink, Ben stops him.

“Callum.”

“I lied,” he says, like a floodgate opening, he can’t stop himself. “The day you saw me hurting myself, in the park. I lied to the doctor about my injury. I lied so I wouldn’t have to go back there.”

“No shame in that.”

“No shame?” Callum shouts. “I’ve abandoned my mates. I’ve let down my country.”

“Jesus.” Ben puts both glasses on the table and turns to face Callum, a strong hand at his thigh. “You don’t owe them ya life, for fuck’s sake.”

“Course I do! That’s the whole point. I promised ‘em … I promised a lot of things. To serve. To protect.”

“Ain’t that the fuzz?”

“Shut up.”

“Callum,” Ben says again, and Callum really wishes he wouldn’t. It makes his blood hot, his hair stand on end. His name on that mouth. His, his, his. “Fuck. Now I need a drink.”

Callum huffs a laugh, watching Ben gulp down the drink he’d been nursing. His jacket and his shoes are off, his top buttons are undone - he looks comfortable and  _ right _ here, Callum could almost pretend it was normal.

“Did you know I need glasses? To see, I mean?”

Callum does a double take, derailed. “What? No?”

“Yeah. Used to wear them all the time ‘til I came back here.”

“So, what, you wear contacts?” Ben just nods. “How’d I not know that?”

“Didn’t want you to. I’m also supposed to have a hearing aid in. I don’t, in case you were wondering.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that would’ve been so easy to miss.”   


“Exactly,” Ben agrees, and they share a small smile. “I just … all these things, these weaknesses, they were holding me back from what I wanted. No one’s coming to the skinny kid with glasses and hearing aids to do his dealings.  _ No one _ .”

“They aint weaknesses,” Callum argues, sitting up again to grab at Ben’s shirt, whatever he can reach. “You shouldn’t be ashamed…”

“But, what, you should be? Just ‘cause your problems are up here,” Ben taps Callum’s temple. “Don’t mean they ain’t real. You couldn’t go back to the Army. You can’t come out. It’s okay, Callum. There’s no shame in it. Don’t be ashamed.”

Callum feels a strong surge of affection, suddenly, so desperately wanting to thank Ben but knowing the words never mean as much. He kisses him instead, slow and chaste at first, until Ben pushes him back into the sofa and gets half perched onto his lap.

“Why’re you like this?” Callum asks breathlessly, pushing Ben off him just a little to search his face for answers. He’s gorgeous, a five o’clock shadow and wet, pink lips. He’s all muscle and sinew and strength wherever Callum can get his hands on him. “With me… why’re you so…”

“Nice?” Ben says, giving him a smirk. “Why d’you think, Halfway? Is it so hard to guess?”

“No,” Callum supposes, he knows Ben wants him. But he hadn’t let himself think about how much Ben might actually  _ like _ him. Ben doesn’t like a lot of people, outside of his family. “But tomorrow, the next day, you’ll be winding me up again.”

“‘Course. That’s half the fun, yeah?” 

Callum just rolls his eyes, before opening his mouth for a kiss and sinking further into the sofa, Ben crawling the rest of the way onto his lap. Ben starts working on his shirt buttons, and Callum pushs Ben’s own shirt up to under his armpits - feeling soft skin, and the hair on his chest, and revelling in how it’s so different, so right.

“Is this okay, here?” Ben asks, his mouth pitter pattering against Callum’s neck and shoulder. “We can go somewhere else … the car lot … or…”

“No,” Callum decides, because he’s mostly hard in his jeans already, and he has Ben here, and  _ this _ is his place right now. He’ll worry about the rest tomorrow.

“Come on.”

Callum pushes Ben off, and pulls him to the bedroom, and closes the door behind them.

He’s spent 26 years taking care of others, not knowing himself, not knowing why.

Tonight he’s let Ben see all his truth.

Tonight he’ll let Ben take care of _him_.

**Author's Note:**

> Join me at [Tumblr](http://thefancyspin.tumblr.com)!


End file.
